


eventually i know i'm doomed to get what i am asking for

by blackwood (transjon)



Series: never dream of you again [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Boss/Employee Relationship, Catboys & Catgirls, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dehumanization, Disordered Eating, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gaslighting, Hand Feeding, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mind Reading, Scent Marking, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Content, Starvation, Threats of Violence, scruffing, seriously this goes hard on the dehumanization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27252565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transjon/pseuds/blackwood
Summary: Elias knows.Elias always knows.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: never dream of you again [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027144
Comments: 13
Kudos: 138





	eventually i know i'm doomed to get what i am asking for

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GrangeLady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrangeLady/gifts).



> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the tags!!!! more detailed cws in endnotes. 
> 
> this is NOT the same universe as my other catboy fic, just a catboy jonelias request!
> 
> the ending isnt necessarily happy, or add comfort to the hurt, but im trying to leave open a possibility for a sequel that WOULD be more h/c, in case that matters. 
> 
> title is from trout heart replica by amanda palmer.

Elias steps on his tail. Jon hisses. 

It’s not on purpose, just instinct – half pain, half surprise, but Elias’ hand is on his neck in a flash, fingernails digging into the skin. Jon tenses up, and when Elias wraps his fingers around it tighter he goes limp. His knees buckle, but Elias won’t let him sit down. If he falls Elias will be angry. Angrier than he already is, that is. 

“I thought we were past all that,” Elias says. His tone is even. His eyes are dark. 

“Sorry,” Jon hurries to say. “Sorry, it was an accident –”

Elias doesn’t let go. Instead he tightens his grip and pulls Jon closer, until his chest almost hits Elias’. 

“I should make you sleep on the floor,” Elias mutters. “And even that might be too good.”

Jon licks his lips nervously. His tail, tucked firmly between his legs, brushes against Elias’ knee. Elias moves his leg away. Jon nods, and then shakes his head, and then nods again. His ears twitch and pull back nervously. 

“What do you think?” Elias asks.

It’s a trap. It’s always a trap. 

“Whatever you think I deserve,” Jon mumbles. His mouth is filling with saliva. He swallows heavily. 

Elias hums. He takes another step towards Jon, and Jon, out of instinct, moves backwards, and then when Elias takes another step he moves back again. The backs of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, and Elias, with a hand on his chest, pushes him down, down, until he’s lying on the mattress, knees caught at the edge. His hand doesn’t let go of his neck, just moves to the front of it, cups his throat.

“Turn around,” Elias says. His voice is soft and silky. Jon, heart caught in his throat, lies on his front, fast as he can, and Elias’ hand wraps around the back of his neck again. 

There’s a few moments of complete silence. Jon counts his heartbeats. Counts Elias’ breaths. His tail tries to tuck itself between his legs but there’s nowhere for it to go. The tip twitches against the blankets. 

He’s about to apologize again, or maybe beg for the punishment to start already, but then Elias climbs onto the bed too. He puts his weight on the hand on Jon’s neck as he does, and for a second Jon can’t move or breathe, but then the weight goes away again as Elias sits down on the small of his back. 

Elias is heavy. He puts his whole weight on Jon without care. He doesn’t ask if Jon’s comfortable, because he doesn’t care. His knees settle on each side of Jon’s waist, his free hand settling on his upper back. “What is it going to take?” he asks softly. 

“I’m sorry,” Jon says. His tongue feels heavy. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I’m starting to wonder what I was thinking,” Elias murmurs. “Taking in a stray. Out of the goodness of my heart.”

“No,” Jon whimpers. Elias ignores him, hand pushing him further into the mattress. Jon’s claws, with his hands pushed into the mattress like this, come out against his will, the blunt, trimmed tips of them digging into the give of the mattress without leaving holes in the sheets. 

Elias notices. Elias always notices.

“Am I going to have to declaw you after all?” he asks. 

“You won’t,” Jon tells him frantically, “I’ll be good.” He tries to pull them back in but with the pressure the position is putting on the joints it’s impossible. He tries to move his hands into another position, maybe move his arms to rest on his sides, palms up, but Elias’ hand comes to cover one of them, fingers pushing into his knuckles to keep the claws out. 

“You always say that,” Elias says softly. His fingers push against the knuckles, pull away again. “Every time. But here we are again, aren’t we?”

Jon closes his eyes tightly. There’s nobody that’ll do that. Nobody reputable. He has the horrible vision of Elias with pliers and a scalpel, pulling them out from the root, one by one. Making him watch. Throwing them in the trash can right in front of him. He might pull out his canines while he’s at it, too. He’s threatened that enough times.

“Tomorrow,” Elias says. “You can prove yourself to me tomorrow.”

“I will,” Jon promises. “I promise.”

Elias leans closer, closer, until he can touch his mouth to the tip of one of Jon’s pulled back ears. Jon expects him to bite, or pull, but instead he just presses a light kiss to it. “Good,” he murmurs. 

He lets go of his neck. Pulls away, and then climbs off of Jon completely. “You’re going to be good, aren’t you?”

Jon, too afraid to turn around without being told to, sobs into the mattress. “Yes,” he says, “yes, I’ll be good.”

–

When they have sex Elias likes to dig his fingers into the bones of Jon’s hips and move him on his cock. 

“Look at you,” he says. “You can be good, after all.”

Jon wants to squeeze his eyes shut. Elias doesn’t like it when he does that, so he doesn’t. Elias likes to look. Elias has dark eyes. Elias has endless pupils. Elias can read his mind, or so he’s told him. Elias knows when he wants to be bad. Elias knows when he’s lying.

“Yes,” he says. His voice comes out hoarse. Elias, apparently happy with it, wraps his hands around the back of Jon’s neck. “Yes, I can be good.”

“Do you love me, Jon?” he asks. 

Elias knows when he’s lying. Elias can read his mind. 

“Yes,” Jon says, throat dry. 

Elias smiles. Elias digs his nails into Jon’s neck. It’s enough. Today it’s enough.

–

It’s what he deserves. 

It’s more than what he deserves, actually. Elias knows everything. Elias tells the truth. Elias only knows the truth, and Elias tells him everything, and he only tells him the truth, because it’s all he knows. That’s the only way any of it makes sense, after all, the only way for the puzzle pieces to fit together. Anything else makes it all fall apart, so Jon chooses to trust that each piece he’s carefully put together is real. 

Elias feeds him pieces of salmon even though salmon is bad for him. He’s only allowed a little bit, about once a month, but Elias always gives it to him, eventually. Elias spoils him.

“Thank you,” he says after each bite. He licks the tips of Elias’ fingers clean, and Elias pulls out another piece, and then another, until the whole vacuum sealed package is gone. 

Sometimes if he’s not careful the tips of his teeth graze the skin of Elias’ fingers. Usually if he immediately licks the skin he’s touched with them apologetically Elias lets him get away with it. Today he’s avoided it altogether. 

Elias puts his free hand in Jon’s hair, tangles his fingers in the silky curls, and then moves them to the base of Jon’s ear, scratches over the skin where the shape of the ear begins. He starts purring without meaning to, the taste of salmon still in his mouth, the gentle touch so rare, so precious. 

“Sweet boy,” Elias says softly. “Look at you.”

Jon hesitantly rubs his cheek against the knee of Elias’ slacks. Elias doesn’t stop him, so he does it again. The fingers in his hair don’t still. He offers Jon his other hand again, the one he’s been feeding him with, and Jon opens his mouth obediently. Elias presses down on his tongue with his fingers. Jon sucks on them obediently, eagerly, cheeks hollowing, tongue swiping around and between them. 

And he doesn’t stop purring. Can’t, really. He, despite himself, feels good. Elias with his hand in Jon’s hair, at the base of his ear. Elias with his fingers in Jon’s mouth. Jon, full of salmon. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” Elias tells him eventually. He gives him a final scratching pet behind his ear, and then he pulls his fingers out of Jon’s mouth. Jon allows him, mouth falling open to make it easier. “Let’s go to bed.”

–

They all know he and Elias are dating. 

“Score,” Tim’d said when he’d found out, and offered his hand out for a fist bump. He hadn’t been as happy when he’d found out that it’d _actually_ scored him a promotion. He hadn’t deserved it, but then again Elias has given him many things he doesn’t actually deserve. 

After the promotion Tim’s pulled away from him, and so has Sasha. That he does deserve. How is he supposed to tell them that he knows he doesn’t deserve it? That he didn’t ask for it? 

“Jon?” Martin goes. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Jon mumbles. He stares at the sandwich he’s taken two bites out of. “Just not hungry.”

Martin watches him with big, worried eyes. Jon doesn’t have to look back. Martin can’t read his mind. Only Elias can. 

–

Elias had always been –

Touchy. He’d liked to touch Jon. He can’t remember if he’d been that way with the others, but thinking about it now he’s not so sure Tim would take it well if Elias tried to do with him what he’d done with Jon. He bites on his fingertips, claws carefully withdrawn. Elias doesn’t like when he allows his tail to swish like this but Elias isn’t in the room so he allows it to. 

Hands on his shoulder. Hands on his arm. Hands on his hands. Just folded over them. Fingers touching his back. Had that really happened? Did he imagine it? Elias keeps telling him Jon’d been the one who initiated it. Elias knows everything. Jon doesn’t know anything. 

He’d showed up at Jon’s door. Jon shouldn’t have let him in. 

–

Elias doesn’t make him sleep on the floor, no matter how often he threatens to do that, but sometimes he makes him sleep in the pet bed. 

It’s too small for him, obviously. Jon should be embarrassed that he likes it, but he does. He likes it. It’s small and fluffy and smells like him. It’s the only thing in the house that just smells like him. Even he doesn’t smell like just him anymore. 

Elias holds him, and he rubs his face against Jon’s, clumsy and painful, the bones of his jaw colliding with Jon’s nose. When he retreats and leaves Jon to curl up into a little ball Jon smells like Elias. He scrubs his face and hair and body in the shower, sponge and washcloth and his hands, and he comes out raw and red and damp, smelling like soap and shampoo. 

Ungrateful. It’s ungrateful. Elias likes for him to smell like him, even if he can’t smell it. He knows when Jon can smell it. 

Elias knows. Elias always knows. 

Jon curls up in the bed. Elias asks him to get out. Jon curls up in his bed, the cat bed, and tries to sleep. These days it’s like he’s _always_ exhausted. Elias gives him salmon. Elias gives him chicken. Elias gives him –

Is there anything else? At work he eats sandwiches. Sometimes chicken and rice. He thinks, at some point he must’ve liked to eat something else. Something different. Does that matter?

Elias has him sit at his feet. Elias eats other foods. Jon used to beg, or ask, or just take food, make his own, even, but now he knows better. Lots of food cats aren’t supposed to eat he didn’t even know about. Elias feeds him pieces of chicken with his hands and Jon licks his fingers clean and he’s always _exhausted_. It’s good that he sits on the floor. It’s good that he doesn’t have to stand.

Elias brings in lilies. Jon stills, tail twitching. “I think I’m allergic to lilies,” he says tentatively. He knows he is. It’s just that Elias doesn’t like him saying anything with authority. With confidence. 

“I know,” Elias says airily. He sets the vase down on the coffee table. Jon eyes the cat bed, barely a meter away, and then the lilies, and then the cat bed again. His tail swishes just once before he thinks to grab it with his hand. It squirms like a snake in his grip. He’s lucky Elias didn’t notice.

Jon sleeps in the bed that night. Elias holds him all night. Jon doesn’t know if Elias sleeps at all, because his grip never once loosens. Jon doesn’t sleep. That might make two of them. 

–

Is there a way for this to work? Is it working? He puts one hand over the beat of his heart in his throat and holds it there. Is it working?

Elias holds his hand the whole way to work. He kisses Jon’s forehead at the door. Tim and Martin and Sasha watch him do it, and Jon allows him, because he doesn’t have a choice. He holds his head down the whole way to his office. Nobody ever follows him. 

Is it good? Jon puts a hand over the bare skin of his throat again. Elias takes care of him. Does he deserve it?

Sasha looks at him with those eyes, sometimes, the same eyes he sees in the mirror, sometimes. He used to see those eyes all the time. Red rimmed and glassy and dark. Something in them that he doesn’t know how to name. He can’t recognize the emotion anymore. He doesn’t know anything. 

Elias does. Elias knows everything. 

–

“You’re so beautiful,” Elias tells him. He’s lying across Elias’ lap on his front. “You really don’t have to go to a breeder to find a lovely pet, do you?”

Jon tenses, and then relaxes again. “Thank you,” he says softly. There’s no point in getting upset. It’s a compliment, after all. He supposes you really can’t know what you get when you take in something like him. 

Elias smiles. He gathers a handful of Jon’s hair in his hands, pulls, lets go again. “Sweet boy.”

Jon is sweet. Jon is good. Jon kneads his knuckles against the pillow hesitantly, self-consciously, and Elias pets his back in long, slow strokes. Sometimes when he does this he likes to put fingers inside of him as well. Today he’s happy to just touch him, friendly and affectionate and fond. 

“Thank you,” he says again. A yawn forces its way out of him, pulls the corners of his mouth open, pushes his eyes shut. He never closes his eyes anymore, unless it’s to sleep. 

Elias finds the base of his tail and scratches idly. Jon arches into the touch and squirms lightly. “Good?” Elias asks. 

Jon hums, and then starts purring. It’s not on command, but it almost is. As much stress as it is pleasure. As much for Elias as it is for himself. 

–

“Are you okay?” Martin asks him. 

“Fine,” Jon says. “Why do you ask?”

Martin fidgets. Squirms. “I’m worried about you. We all are.”

“I’m fine,” Jon reiterates. “Why?”

Martin opens his mouth and then closes it again. He lowers his voice and leans forward. “I saw Elias pull your tail earlier.”

Jon flushes and looks away. “I’m not supposed to,” he searches for the words. Tries to make the ball of discomfort bouncing wall to wall in his mouth as small as possible. It’s hard to phrase it in a way that doesn’t make it sound worse than it is. “It’s rude to, ah, let it do that indoors. For it to – swish? It really can be quite painful if it whacks against your shin. It’s a safety risk.” 

Martin doesn’t seem to be buying it. “Doesn’t that hurt? Pulling on it?”

Jon’s tail twitches. He grabs it in a loose grip. “Yes,” he says quietly. “But just a little bit.”

Elias likes to wrap his hand around the middle section of it and yank. Sometimes it pulls him off balance. He used to think maybe Elias didn’t know that his tail attaches to his spine directly, but Elias knows everything. He must know. Elias always does.

Martin’s face twitches, almost like Jon’s tail. A ripple of displeased emotion. “Did you ask him to do that?” he asks. 

Jon looks away. Looks at his sandwich. Looks at the table. “No,” he admits.

Martin, without asking, puts his hand over Jon’s. Jon pulls his hands away before remembering he’s not supposed to do that. He can’t put them back now. 

“Jon,” Martin says calmly. He opens his mouth again, to say something else, but Jon, overwhelmed and scared, doesn’t want to hear it. 

“I’m fine,” Jon says, and stands up quickly. He slams his knee on the underside of the table. He barely feels it, just turns around to leave.

It’s salmon night, he tells himself. It’s salmon night. “I’m fine,” he tells himself, quietly. 

Martin, behind him, back at the cramped little dining table, keeps looking. Jon turns to look back, once, for a few seconds, and they make eye contact, just briefly. 

The look in his eyes. The dark look. Jon, Sasha, Martin. Like a trickle turning into a river. An infectious disease of some kind. Mosquitoes reproducing in a puddle. 

Salmon. Chicken. He feels a little sick. Maybe Elias will pet him while he feeds him. He’d done it last time. It’d made him purr, and rub his face against Elias’ legs, and Elias had liked that. Reprocicial. He’d called him _sweet boy._ Jon had lost himself in the sound and feeling of it all. 

Salmon. Chicken. He feels weak. A little dizzy. The sandwich had tasted like sawdust. He didn’t manage more than a few bites, and it’s still on the table, now, so there’s no way for him to finish it either. His tail twitches. Something settles in his stomach. Salmon. Chicken. Elias’ fingers in his mouth. Sometimes when he bites them he can taste blood. It makes him want to cry, but he doesn’t know why. 

He wonders if Martin would scruff him. If Martin would pull on his tail. If Martin would tell him he’s going to have his teeth pulled out, one by one. If Martin’s dark eyes would turn into Elias’ dark eyes.

“Jon,” Martin calls after him. 

Jon doesn’t turn to look. Jon doesn’t know anything.

**Author's Note:**

> CW:  
> \- gaslighting  
> \- dehumanizing language and actions - treating jon like a literal cat, using negative cat/nonhuman descriptions for jon  
> \- extremely dubious consent sex - there is technically consent but jon is uncomfortable and you can definitely call it coerced consent just based on the nature of their relationship, which doesnt leave much room for consensual anything  
> \- self-blaming of the 'this is bad but its all i deserve' flavor AND the 'this isnt bad, im just bad and deserve bad things, in fact this is more than i deserve' flavor  
> \- elias threatens to have jon declawed. there's also discussion/thoughts of tooth pulling.  
> \- elias controls jons food intake, poorly, ie. jon doesnt get to eat enough  
> \- a lot of stuff about mind reading – whether elias actually can do that in this universe is unclear, but he tells jon that he can as a way to control him  
> \- weird asf comment from elias about getting a catperson from a breeder (?????)


End file.
